


Watching

by Flanexism



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, slenderman - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-30 23:50:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19414039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flanexism/pseuds/Flanexism
Summary: Picking up on the feeling of being watched is probably one of the worst things to happen to a person. It feels like cold spiders crawling under your skin as your hair stands on end. Getting that feeling in the middle of the woods far, far from society makes it all worse. Especially if you're camped out in a small tent, by yourself, with only a few things on hand to protect yourself with.





	1. The Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome!   
> This is a story I've wanted to write for a while, so I decided why not post it here? The tag for depiction of violence doesn't apply until later in the story, so I'll let you all know in the notes beforehand!   
> This isn't exactly a "love" story or a pairing, but it could be. I guess we'll have to see what happens huh? ;)

Picking up on the feeling of being watched is probably one of the worst things to happen to a person. It feels like cold spiders crawling under your skin as your hair stands on end. You feel anxious, like something is going to happen to you. You start to move more slowly, knowing your every step is being watched - and the uncertainty of who is watching makes it all the more difficult to move freely.   
Getting that feeling in the middle of the woods far, far from society makes it all worse. Especially if you're camped out in a small tent, by yourself, with only a few things on hand to protect yourself with. But when it's 8pm at night in the middle of July, it feels strange to get the feeling, as the sun had only recently set, and the animals were still making their nightly noises in their own camps. In all the horror situations, being watched is usually something that occurs late late in the night.  
I was just finishing up my dinner – a meal of two hot dogs (cooked on my fire of course), a bag of chips, and half a water bottle – when I felt it. That creepy-crawl feeling on the side of my head and on my arms. This was my first night camping in this area, so I was unfamiliar with the surroundings. I heard nothing other than nature, and I couldn't see anyone standing near the trees or behind a bush. The birds chirped away as they were getting ready to sleep in their nests, and the wind picked up into a soft breeze for only a moment. I stayed quiet, carefully looking around myself. My hatchet was nearby, but I was too worried I'd provoke some kind of attack if I got up to grab it. So I sat, holding my bag of chips and keeping my eyes on the trees. Though I didn't see anything – especially over the light of the fire – the feeling still lingered. It felt like two eyes were burning themselves into my skull.   
But something felt off. Even though it felt like someone was staring at me, it didn't feel like anyone was actually there, like I was being stared down by a ghost. It didn't feel evil, or malicious, but it definitely felt like it wanted something. Like I had something it wanted.   
I stayed put for a solid five minutes before the feeling left. It left so abruptly that I realized I had forgotten what it felt like to not have it boring into my soul. I looked around one last time, this time less worried about being caught. With nothing in sight, I quickly stood up, fed the fire one last time, grabbed my hatchet and slipped into my tent. I wanted to have something close...just in case.   
The crickets had just started to chirp, making everything...less quiet. I was grateful for that. Even though the feeling had left, I still tried to be as quiet as possible. I slid into my sleeping bag, setting my hatchet beside it and resting my head against the pillow. I stared at the tent ceiling, the moon shining through the trees and casting shadows on the tent fabric, making it appear as though arms were waving gently in the breeze. I stared at them until my eyes got heavy, and I slowly closed them, drifting off to sleep.


	2. Nightmare Becomes A Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I looked around, trying to find any person or any sign of a person – like footprints or something. There was nothing and nobody. The fire crackled ominously next to me, and I turned back to look at it again. I heard a twig snap near me to the right and turned my head quickly in its direction. I didn't see anything at first until my eyes adjusted to a shape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer than the last one! Enjoy!

Long arms snaked through the trees, pulling me back and forth and every-which-way, holding me tight as I struggled to escape. I had no voice, as I was drowned out by a sea of screams and cries, all yelling for death. The hands were ice cold, but the ground felt like fire. I was picked up off the ground, being raised up to face...something. I couldn't make it out because, every time I tried, my eyes would burn and blur over, making seeing anything almost impossible. An ice cold hand crawled its way up my back, the others gripping my limbs tight. I felt my throat start to close off as my vision went black, the screams getting louder and louder until I passed out.  
I woke up with a sharp gasp, my body in a heavy cold sweat and my head spinning. I stared at my sleeping bag for a few seconds, trying to catch my breath and process what the hell just happened to me.   
“It was just a nightmare...” I whispered, rubbing the sweat off my neck. I kicked my sleeping bag off my legs and slowly stood up, stretching out my limbs. I put on my shoes and unzipped my tent door, stepping out into the light of the sunrise.  
The air was crisp and just cool enough. My fire was long dead so I got to work to start it up again. I realized I was running out of the bigger wood, so I grabbed my hatchet out of my tent and walked out to the area I had previously found my fire wood. It wasn't super dense, but had dry enough wood to work with. I started pushing on a few of the trees, seeing which ones could just topple over. One budged a bit, so I pushed it harder with my foot, breaking the roots out of the ground and sending it crashing on its side. I took my hatchet, set the fallen tree on top of another dead fallen tree, and sent the hatchet down into the middle of the trees wood. It cracked, so I hit it again and it finally split. The trees weren't too big (skinny cedars), so I was able to do all this easily. I picked up both halves of the tree and carried it back to my camp to chop into logs.   
When I made it back, I realized my fire was already going. I hadn't lit it yet, only set it up. I stared at the fire. It was big. Not bonfire big, but big enough to last for a few hours. I set the trunks down and slowly walked over to the fire. There was the rest of my wood in there. I looked around, trying to find any person or any sign of a person – like footprints or something. There was nothing and nobody. The fire crackled ominously next to me, and I turned back to look at it again. There was nothing peculiar about the fire. Just big and burning nicely.   
“Huh.” I said aloud.   
I sighed and went to go grab my backpack from the tent, finally feeling my hunger catch on after all this scare. I pulled out two granola bars and tore one open, biting eagerly into it. The fire warmed my face as I finished my first bar, looking around at all the trees and a few of the birds flying overhead. It was nice and sunny today and the trees were lit up nice. I thought about talking a walk later, knowing today would be a cooler day than the others. Might as well take advantage. 

I heard a twig snap near me to the right and turned my head quickly in its direction. I didn't see anything at first until my eyes adjusted to a shape. It blended in to the trees so well I could barely make it out. It was extremely tall, scaling next to the trees height and reaching just about halfway. My eyes were caught by a white shape. A head. I felt that feeling from last night again, only now I knew what was causing it. The figure burned my eyes to look at, but I stared to try and make out a face. It was blurry, glitching or even morphing the skin so much that it was practically blank. It almost looked like it was wearing a suit. We both stared at each other for few moments, the second granola bar in my hand being ignored and instead replaced by this towering, emotionless figure.  
“Thank you for the fire, I think.” I finally broke the silence. It had been so quiet everything sounded like radio static, growing louder and louder. But this figure seemed...taken aback almost – as if it wasn't expecting me to say or do much of anything except scream and run. “I don't know if that was you, but thank you if it was.”   
I still felt tense, as I wasn't sure what this things true intent was, but it didn't feel threatening. It continued to stare at me for a long time, so I tore open my second granola bar and started eating it. I definitely couldn't ignore it's presence, so through muffled chewing, I spoke up again.   
“Do you have a name?” I asked, swallowing my bite and a little bit of my fear. It stood still for a second and then shook its head. I nodded.   
“Okay, then.” I went back to eating my bar quietly.   
“What is yours?” I heard hundreds of voices rush into my head, most of them asking exactly that, others a varied version of the same thing. My head felt heavy and it throbbed a bit. Obviously this scared the crap out of me, so I jumped out of my seat a bit. I blinked a few times at the figure, trying to understand how it did that.  
“Uh....Vince.” I stuttered, not really sure if telling it that was a good idea. It nodded. I heard the voices chime in quietly, whispering my name over and over, as if it was trying it out or memorizing its sound.   
“Vince...Vincent...Vince...” It echoed in my head over and over again, a loud high pitched tone ringing in my ears. The pitch turned into a low hum. It sounded pleased.   
I stared at the figure for as long as I could, watching it stare blankly while appearing to be off in its own head.  
I blinked and it was gone. It hadn't moved an inch. Just...disappeared. I looked around frantically. It was no where in sight.   
“Oh fuck me.” I whispered.   
I definitely shouldn't have told it my name.


	3. By The Fire's Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It kept its arm extended for a few seconds. It wasn't budging like it was going to walk over and give it to me, so I took that as a sign it wanted me to come get the book from it. I felt a light buzzing in my ears as it stared me down, book in slender white hand and no expression on its face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to format this chapter a little differently, as I'm trying to get used to the way this website works!  
> Anyways, enjoy this little by-the-fire encounter! :D This should go fine.

The next few hours of the day were fine. I wimped out on my idea of taking a walk through the woods, for obvious reasons. The figure never came back and I never got the feeling of being watched. I spent those hours drawing mostly, trying to figure out how to draw something that doesn't really have a defined face.

I had only brought my basics with me – a sketchpad, a pencil, an eraser, and a pen. The sketchpad was nice quality and big enough for sketches but small enough to bring in my backpack with me. It contained a variety of sketches, from drawings of different trees and plants I've encountered to random sketches of people and their forms. I had been drawing practically my whole life, but never really made anything out of it other than a hobby.

As I sketched I noticed the fire finally started to get small. I set my sketchbook on my seat as I stood up and walked to get the wood I had chopped up. I picked up a log and carried it to the fire, setting it in the middle. The fire immediately started to eat at it, and I watched as the wood singed and flaked. The way the fire moved was strange for a moment, the ashes squirming and the flames dancing like branches in the wind. It all looked oddly liquid. I could feel the burn on my feet from the nightmare I had the night before. It crawled its way up my legs as I stared into the fire, the pain drifting me away from reality as I focused on the flames reaching up and up, high into the trees. The large, cold hands snaked their way out of the orange blur towards me, their fingers inching and reaching for my limbs. I stared as they got closer and closer. Everything hurt so bad, but I couldn't move, the hands freely racing towards me. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for what was to come.

A rustling behind me snapped me out of my trance. I opened my eyes and blinked, noticing I was still standing in front of the fire – which was quite small at the moment. The wood inside the fire was still slowly burning. I turned around and looked for what caused the noise. Nothing was behind me...but that seemed to be just the problem. I saw the empty chair I had been sitting in was missing something. My sketchbook. It was gone.

I searched around for it for a few minutes. I turned over my sleeping bag, dug through my backpack, and even looked near the trees. It was no where.  
  
“Great. That _thing_ probably stole it.” I huffed and walked back to my chair. I rested my chin on my hands and looked into the woods, too scared to look back into the fire. I could swear I saw something among the trees, but when I looked harder, there was nothing. _Im going crazy_ I thought to myself, _and I'm pretty sure this is that things fault._

Sometime that evening, right as it started to get later, it came back. It appeared across from me about 100 feet away as I sat and cooked my dinner, standing still and staring right at me. I gently put down the stick I was using to roast my chicken breast and stared back at it.

“Welcome back.” I said in a half-attempt at a cheerful tone.  
“I was here the whole time.” It spoke back in that awful hundred-voices amalgamation of speech.  
“I noticed. But this time you're present physically.” I motioned my hand up and down my torso, “That must mean you want something.”  
It stayed silent for a moment then shook its head. “I'm here to give this back.”

It lifted an arm which appeared like a shadow coming out of the darkness and revealed my sketchbook. I sighed. So it _had_ taken my book. It kept its arm extended for a few seconds. It wasn't budging like it was going to walk over and give it to me, so I took that as a sign it wanted _me_ to come get the book from it. I looked from the book to its white, featureless face. Walking close to it didn't sound like the brightest idea to me, so I stayed put.

“Um, you can set it on the ground or something, I'll come get it later.” I told it, making sure to keep my eyes on its movement. It still wouldn't move. Just kept its arm extended, holding the book. I sighed and stood up. The air changed in a way that only could've been described as...eager? So I stood still.  
“Could...could you bring it to me?” I asked, a bit more on edge now. I heard a few whispers in the air and then it shook its head again.

I stayed silent. I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to do now. I'm definitely not walking over to it, and it doesn't seem to want to bring it to me or just _set it down._ I felt a light buzzing in my ears as it stared me down, book in slender white hand and no expression on its face. I noticed the book...glitched a little. It disappeared from its hand for a split second and then came back to reality again. It was definitely a trap. I turned to my backpack and opened it, pulling out my now present sketchbook. I waved the book at the figure. 

“You can keep that one, I have my own.” I smiled. Then the air grew cold. Cold and tense. I clutched onto my book tighter, which was still raised by my head to show it to the thing. I didn't want to move for fear of something bad happening. The buzz in my ears grew stronger and the figure seemed to grow slightly...taller. It stared me down for a few more moments then concealed the book and its arm back into its dark figure. I blinked and it was gone again.

The cold air never really left after it did. I noticed the sky was getting darker by the seconds and chalked it up to being late and that the air was starting to get colder because of that. I decided it was time for bed. I didn't care what time it was, or that I wasn't tired. I didn't want to sit outside any longer than I had to. I fed the fire another log and wrapped up my stuff, heading into my tent. I quickly zipped up the fabric door and set down my backpack next to my sleeping bag. I sat on top of the sleeping bag and let out a quiet, shaky sigh of relief.

Tomorrow will be my last day here. It has to be. I now realized that this thing was probably fully capable of hurting me and wasn't just there for small talk. I didn't really trust it to begin with, but now I had lost all trust.

I slipped off my shoes and slid into the sleeping bag, zipping it up to my chin and hiding under it. I still felt unsafe, even in my tent. My car was about an hour hike away from here, so I'd have to be ready for any other surprise encounters from the thing along the way. I closed my eyes and tried to control my shaky breaths. I had to admit I was scared. The woods were dead quiet as I shifted into sleep, the shadows of the trees reaching over the top of my tent, hovering over me like arms until I lost consciousness.


End file.
